


Baise-moi

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Desperation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little on the desperate side, are we?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baise-moi

Lysandre has been home for approximately two and a half seconds before he's being slammed back against the door he just shut.

He barely has time to chuckle before Augustine's mouth is upon his, eager hands grasping at his clothing, body pressed flush against his own. "Fuck me," Augustine moans between desperate kisses, practically rubbing up against Lysandre's body. "Fuck me, please, please, Lysandre, fuck me, please, I need it, fuck me, please, fuck me!"

This time, Lysandre does laugh as he breaks away, scooping Augustine up in his arms. "A little on the desperate side, are we?" he murmurs, glancing at the clock. No wonder - it's nearing eight, and Augustine would have been held at the brink of orgasm for a good thirteen hours now.

Augustine lets out a desperate whine as Lysandre deposits him on the dining table, reaching for his belt buckle and his hands trembling too much to get it undone. Lysandre undoes it for him, taking the opportunity to stroke the outline of his erection through the fabric, and earning another whimper, another buck of his hips. "Lysandre, please, I need this," he begs again, tugging fitfully at his clothing.

Augustine sighs in relief as Lysandre finally drags his pants off, but the sigh very quickly devolves into whimpering and groaning and pleading as Lysandre continues teasing him - tracing light patterns against his cock through the restrictive underwear, lingering on the damp patch that would have been there almost all day, dropping a kiss on his thigh, tantalisingly close to where he knows Augustine most wants to be touched. "You'll have to remind me," he murmurs as he presses another kiss to Augustine's hip. "What did you want me to do?"

His response is practically a growl. " _Fuck me, please!_ "

Lysandre laughs again, and finally pulls off the restrictive underwear, hiding a smirk at the pretty sight before him - Augustine, flushed and writhing against the table, hair and clothes in disarray, cock hard and flushed, the vibrator's buzzing now audible and the light glinting appealingly off the gold cock ring (emblazoned with a fleur-de-lis, naturally). "You'll have to wait a moment," he says lightly. "We will need lubricant."

"Pants pocket," Augustine groans, dropping his head lightly back against the table. "I've been waiting _all day_ for you to fuck me. Please!"

He certainly is well-prepared, Lysandre muses as he removes the lubricant and condom from the pocket of Augustine's discarded pants, unzipping his own pants and letting his cock spring out (largely due to anticipation; anticipation, say, and not a vibrator buzzing against his prostate for the better part of the day). Augustine bites down on his lip savagely as he pushes himself up to watch Lysandre roll the condom on and coat himself with the lubricant, shifting on the table in eager desperation.

"Ready?" Lysandre murmurs as he approaches.

"Yes, _yes_ , fuck me hard, please, fuck me, fuck me, Lysandre, I need it, fuck me, _please_!"

Lysandre leans down to kiss him hard, biting at his lip as he grabs Augustine's ankles and props them over his shoulders. With one quick movement, he pulls the vibrator out, earning another cry and the sight of Augustine's back arching before he replaces the vibrator with his cock.

Augustine sighs in sheer relief, bucking his hips even as he grabs at Lysandre's shirt and drags him closer for another messy kiss. "Please," he whimpers against his mouth, the quiet plea dissolving into moans and cries as Lysandre begins to thrust, not in the mood to take his time with it, desiring the relief that they both desperately need.

He draws back out of the kiss, presses Augustine's legs back against the table, groaning instinctively at the heat that surrounds him, and slams his hips forward again and again. Augustine is already close - indeed, he has been close all day, and he whimpers as Lysandre runs his fingers down his cock, his climax still held back by the ring - and Lysandre is rapidly getting there himself.

It's an unintentional side effect, teasing himself. Just the knowledge that Augustine has been in this state for the entire day, having to go about his day-to-day life while fighting arousal, has left Lysandre half-hard for hours.

He's certainly not begging in words now, unable to articulate language instead of cries and whimpers and moans, but the way he tugs at Lysandre, the way he arches his back, speaks volumes about his current state.

"Please," he manages, head thrown back, body shuddering around Lysandre's cock as it slams relentlessly against his prostate, "Lysandre, let me come, please let me come -"

"Almost," Lysandre whispers as he grasps Augustine's thighs, spreading his legs wide, clinging on to them for leverage as he thrusts deeply into him. He'll have bruises tomorrow, but he imagines that Augustine won't mind much, that he'll trace them lightly through his pants and smile at the memory of being so completely fucked. "Almost, I'm close, I'm going to come, _oh, Augustine_ -"

And he releases the cock ring and Augustine screams, body writing under Lysandre's, head slammed back against the table as he convulses through the orgasm that has been denied to him for half a day, and the spasmodic movement of his inner muscles milks Lysandre of his own blinding climax.

They lie there for a long moment, Augustine panting on the table with his legs loose around Lysandre's hips, Lysandre propped up on his elbows hovering over Augustine's body, both flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat and very much out of breath, both simply revelling the afterglow of such an intense experience.

"So, how was your day?" Lysandre says casually as soon as he's able to form words again, pulling out of his lover's body, and Augustine laughs at the sheer normalcy of the conversation.

"Oh, fine. Long, but ultimately satisfying." He grins, still not entirely steady on his feet as he slides off the table, leaning heavily against Lysandre. "Shall we get some dinner together?"

"Let's," Lysandre murmurs, wrapping an arm around his lover's shoulders as they prepare for a comfortable evening at home.


End file.
